Taylor Swift Is Not Done with Camelot

Today in celebrity gossip: She may be done with Conor, but Taylor Swift still has business with the Kennedys. Also, Lincoln gets the Bill O'Reilly stamp of approval, Anne Hathaway does ghoulish cabaret, and Levi Johnston is taking the plunge.

Though Taylor Swift and Conor Kennedy have tragically broken up that does not mean that the country-pop singer is completely disentangled from the Camelot clan. Conor's aunt Kerry Kennedy sent an email blast yesterday announcing Swift as one of the honorees at a December gala called the Robert F. Kennedy Center for Justice and Human Rights’ Ripple of Hope Awards Dinner. Which, um, first off, how much has Taylor Swift really done for justice and human rights? I mean, sure, she's championed the rights of teenage girls who wear T-shirts against the oppressing forces of girls who wear short skirts, who are cheer captain while the poor T-shirt girls are on the bleachers, but that's kind of it. She has spoken out about meanness, I suppose, so that ought to count for something. But really getting honored at such a thing seems like a bit of a stretch. That's beside the point, though. The point is that Swift will be forced to interact with some Kennedys the month after next, which could mean hope for her relationship with Conor? Swift's biggest cheerleader (see, bleacher and cheer girls can get along, thanks to Taylor) in the Kennedy collective, grand poobah matriarch Ethel, will be co-hosting the shindig, so maybe she'll broker some reconciliation or peace deals? I mean, Conor will probably be stuck at boarding school at the time, but maybe Ethel and company can advocate on his behalf. Whatever happens, maybe this means that Swift won't have to sell that summer house across the street from the Kennedys that she recently bought. Maybe they can all still be friends, though things with the golden son didn't go as planned. We can all hold out hope, folks. We really can. Because that's the world of human rights and justice that Taylor Swift has given to us. [Page Six]

Speaking of justice and human rights, Time magazine hosted a media star-studded special screening of Lincoln last night, appropriately held at the AMC Lincoln Square. Oprah Winfrey, Charlie Rose, Lauren Bush, Lesley Stahl, and Killing Lincoln weirdo Bill O'Reilly were among the bold-named guests, along with an operative from our very own Atlantic Wire. Our operative said that the movie was received rather rapturously and that O'Reilly, given his Lincoln connection, was given the first question at a post-movie Q&A moderated by Time's Rick Stengel. O'Reilly asked some softball question about how long it took star Daniel Day-Lewis to prepare to play the Great Emancipator, which seems rather un-pointed for a guy who's constantly barking at everyone on television. But afterward he whipped the crowd up into a frenzy by declaring that the movie will win a Best Picture Oscar, that Day-Lewis will win Best Actor, Steven Spielberg will win Best Director, and that screenwriter Tony Kushner will win Best Screenplay. And if the idea of Bill O'Reilly giving Tony "Gay Bolshevik" Kushner a compliment and Kushner having to sit there and graciously take it doesn't make your brain melt on this wild 'n' wooly pre-megastorm Friday, I don't know what will. This was all held in some basement screening room at the AMC which is kept hidden from the rest of the hoi polloi (I see at least one screening at that theater every week and have never been ushered down into that hallowed room), because you'd never want to mix Oprah Winfrey with some Joe-Joe Schmoenstuff who's about to stuff Dots in his craw while watching Here Comes the Boom. That's just not how Lincoln would have wanted things. "The more exclusive and hidden away the better!" — Abraham Lincoln. [Time]

Speaking of Tony Kushner, on Wednesday night the Angels in America certified genius was one of the audience members at Anne Hathaway's Cabaret cabaret at Joe's Pub, which sounds like one of the more insufferable events of the season. I'm tempted just to copy and paste the entire Page Six item, but I don't think they'd like that, so here is the best/worst snippet: "'Anne vamped like Audrey Hepburn and sounded like Liza Minnelli,' said a spy, adding she 'dressed as Sally Bowles in tiny black satin shorts, black undershirt, a bow tie and boots, with dark, cropped hair and green nail polish.'" That's probably the spookiest Halloween costume I've heard of yet! And what a terrifying event, Anne Hathaway mugging at Joe's Pub for a bunch of celebrity pals, the ultimate theater dork in her most natural, harrowing element, the likes of Tony Kushner and Harvey Weinstein cheering her on. Good grief. Chills to the bone, doesn't it? Later they all went to the Public's restaurant/lounge The Library and "the golden-piped guests" sang "Happy Birthday" to Raul Esparza. Shrieeeek!!! Anything can happen on Halloween! [Page Six]

Speaking of scary things, ol' snow sumbitch Levi Johnston is gettin' hitched. The plague o' Palin and Sunny Oglesby, the mother of Johnston's second child, Breeze Beretta (yup! YUP!), will be tying the knot in Wasilla this weekend, according to a local source. (It's a moose wearing sunglasses.) So what will the wedding ceremony be like? Well, Oglesby will of course be carried in by snow machine, while Levi stands completely nude on a bear skin rug and flexes his muscles. Then a sweet Korn cover band will start playing "F-ckelbel's Canon," an original composition, and the couple will shotgun two cans of Olde English 800, a legally binding act in that part of Wasilla. After the ceremony, everyone's gonna go on down to the rec center for a fight club hosted by that pistachio company Levi did an ad for once, and the guests will dance and get into screaming, weeping drunken fights until dawn. At that point Johnston and Oglesby will leave for their honeymoon, which involves them smearing their rear ends with honey and waving them at cars passing on the highway while they give middle fingers and smoke Newport Lights. Sounds like a wonderful occasion. Have a great time, guys. [Us Weekly]

Recently reunited Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart went to a Prince concert together in L.A. last night. That doesn't necessarily mean they're back in love or anything, but sharing Prince together is something special, so they look to be genuinely on the road to recovery. Of course Pattinson was doing solo press for Twilight 5: Last Cry of the Sex Vampyr earlier this week, so things aren't completely back to normal. But Prince probably helps. He usually does. [TMZ]

Justin Bieber got Giordano's, a Chicago deep-dish pizza place, to stay open past close so he could get some sweet, sweet pizzapies after a concert recently. He and his staff ordered a couple of different pies and the restaurant sent them over to his hotel. Bieber, ever the gentleman, then "sent a pal back to the pizzeria with a note expressing his gratitude." Oh. Hm. "Sent a pal"? Pal? Is that a pal or an employee? Hard to tell. It's actually probably hard for Justin Bieber to tell at this point, which is a little sad. I mean, I have pals, but I would never send a pal to a restaurant in the middle of the night to say thank you for me. That's just not something that I would ask of a pal. But it's different for Justin Bieber, y'know. He's probably paying his pal, so in that case, yeah send that pal to do whatever. That's what the pal is paid for. He's a paid pal. Pay pal. Pizza. What are we even talking about? I just want pizza now. [People]

Oh dear god. Here is a video of most decorated Olympian ever Michael Phelps trying to crowd surf in a little inflatable boat at a club in Las Vegas. And hooo boy Phelps falls down and he falls down hard. It is super embarrassing to watch but also, of course, horribly satisfying. I like/hate thinking about the moment when Phelps realized he was falling or had fallen, and there he is on the ground surrounded by strangers when not but a few seconds ago he'd been trying to act so cool — he falls just as he's, like, raising his arms in victory. Shudder. It must have been a truly terrible, mortifying experience. Hopefully he was drunk. It reminds me of when Prince Harry was drunkenly dancing near that pool and began to fall and then did a dive to try and save face and it was awful. Boys, either stop putting yourselves in positions where you can fall so easily, or stop trying to act so cool so when you do inevitably fall it's not such a freaking disaster. Pick a strategy, OK? Because my heart can't take it. [TMZ]

Chris Martin and his wife, gleaming silk deity Gwyneth Paltrow, were photographed in Los Angeles recently shopping at a Toys "R" Us. Wait, Toys "R" Us? Seriously?? That is not where I imagined Gwyneth Paltrow shopping for toys. Shouldn't she be going to some place called, like, Lysander Lavender's Children's Shoppe and Herbery? Or Sterling Station Toye Companie? Or maybe Bjorn/Svenson Playing Devices? It just feels like she should be shopping somewhere way fancier and boutiquier, right? Toys "R" Us is just so quotidian. I mean, you could never put Toys "R" Us in GOOP. You could put Grosvenor's Juvenile Curios LLC in GOOP, but not Toys "R" Us. Get your act together, Paltrow. [Us Weekly]

After attending (or possibly before) Justin Timberlake's wedding in Italy, fellow 'NSYNC member Chris Kirkpatrick, 41 (!!), proposed to his girlfriend at their Capri hotel. So be sure to pick up a special edition of Want Ad Digest to see their exclusive wedding photos in a few months. [People]

Here is world's most perfect couple Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield shopping for furniture in Los Angeles. They're dressed nicely and looking good and shopping for a couch. A couch they will snuggle on as they watch movies, where they'll make out a little bit on quiet Saturday nights, maybe get a bit friskier on on lazy Sunday mornings. You know, a couch, a couch for a couple, a beautiful perfect celebrity couple with all the money in the world and all the time of youth and perfection to enjoy it. Sigh. Excuse me, I have to go stare at the wall for a few hours. [Daily Mail]

Everyone has someone on their holiday shopping list who’s impossible to buy for. For the second year in a row, we asked Atlantic readers to describe their someone, and brainstormed a few perfect gift ideas for them.